As I prepare to preach my third sermon in our Advent series, it occurs to me that we don't use Matthew’s account in our retelling of the Christmas story. Sure, we mingle the Magi with the Shepherds, and we claim the name "Immanuel," which means, "God with us." But, that's where we stop. Here we pick up Luke's account. Our Christmas programs are full of stables, angel choirs, babies wrapped in cloth, babies leaping in wombs, Mary's "Magnificat." Matthew, however, has none of these. It is, as Barbara Brown Taylor calls it, a story of viscous court intrigue, threat of tyrannical power, harsh realities of genocide, families forced into exile. Go ahead, read it, it's all there. The coming of Christ into the world is a threat to the powers that be. Jesus is coming to set things right, and political powers and religious powers know that this doesn't bode well for them. The humble, broken, vulnerable, and oppressed will be lifted up in God's coming kingdom, while the powers will be exposed in all their nakedness and emptiness. What does that mean for us? How will we receive Jesus?
It’s easy to receive Jesus on Christmas morning. There is the joy of the season, the traditions, the giving. We pull the cute baby out of the closet and set him up outside with the manger scene, we plug him in, there he is, Jesus, glowing in the front yard. Peace on earth, we think, even if for a moment. The children’s excitement on Christmas morning. The new package of underwear from my grandma, you know, the real important things in life tend to show up this time of year. But, am I fooling myself? Am I telling the whole Christmas story? Two weeks ago I preached on John the Baptist's place in the Christmas story. I said I would not be getting any John the Baptist greeting cards this year. Some fine sisters decided to make me a John the Baptist greeting card, complete with burning trees cut at the root, and a wild eyed, bushy bearded preacher on the front calling for repentance. So, with that in mind, I hesitantly say that I doubt I will be getting any Herod greeting cards this year. Herod is the first example of how far the powers will go to resist the in-breaking of God’s reign. The powers run deep within us: greed, pride, and lust. Jesus confronts the powers with his life and ministry and calls us to repent and believe the gospel, to receive his reign in our lives. A reign that often brings not peace, but a sword. Am I really prepared for Christmas?
Matthew allows us to take seriously the arguments against believing the Christmas story. “Joy to the world, the savior reigns.” Really! “A voice heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children, refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.” Deep in the darkness of Matthew’s Christmas story is the shadow of the cross. “He was born, to die on Calvary, to redeem a lost humanity, conquering death, he rose triumphantly, now he reigns for all eternity.” We can’t help but know the rest of the story. It is the rest of the story that gives us the faith and the hope in the face of the powers of this age. We must all face our Herods. Those outside us and even the Herods that dwell within us. Those powers that resist the inbreaking of God’s reign in our lives.
Rachel’s lament at the heart of the Christmas story shows us how to hold on to faith and hope until the second coming. Jesus teaches us that human judgments and justice are not the last. He teaches us that the power humans exercise over each other are not the final powers. We can sing, “joy to the world,” because the Christmas story has not turned away from the suffering. The father has not turned away, Jesus has not turned away. We see in his death on the cross and his resurrection from the dead that human judgments and justice are not the final judgments. And that in the end, the sufferers will be vindicated and the unconditional love of God in Jesus Christ will be the last word.
